Nudism, Acrobats & the Liberal Commandments

Mine was a bizarre upbringing, what with a granny who was a nudist, and an acrobat for a mother . . . well, ours just wasn’t like other households.

Those who knew my family in those days may well be reading this with one sceptically raised eyebrow. There was probably no outward display of eccentricity from either lady – but, I assure you, they were exactly as I describe them. Every time the kettle boiled, the cailleach would announce, ‘I’ll just have my tea naked’. And whenever my mother went visiting, she would assure my father of her intention to ‘stand on the floor’. Clearly, she had breached this protocol at some earlier date, perhaps cartwheeling into someone’s kitchen, or pogoing along their sofa cushions.

Such is the colourful world of a bilingual child. Idioms which are readily understood in one language become positively bizarre in the other. My all-too-proper grandmama would no more remove her floral pinny than she would audition for Pan’s People (latha dha robh iad), let alone consume hot beverages in the altogether. Yet, Gaelic understood through the rusty old ear-trumpet of English would have it so. Equally, my unathletic mother kept both feet firmly planted on the floor, whether at home or calling on friends.

And it doesn’t go away, that sometimes hilarious dissonance. Just recently, I noticed that the Crofting Commission’s draft Gaelic plan contains some surprising information. I think it’s safe to say that the crofters’ war has been lost, now that the Commission has its very own ‘Surrender Officer’.

Speaking a minority language is a pretty good preparation for the challenge of living in this world as a Christian, unable to communicate fully with monoglot atheists. You may speak sincerely in the vocabulary of faith, only to find yourself labelled as unloving, or even hate-filled by those to whom your words are foreign. So much is lost in that particular translation and it’s hard to see how we can bridge the gap between intention and reception.

I’ll tell you one way we won’t do it, though: legislation.

Once human behaviour and even relationships have to resort to the law for their regulation . . . well, love has left by the window. I wonder what God makes of us having to learn this lesson all over again – that we cannot find satisfaction in legalism, when we leave out the most important element  of all.

‘Ah’, the unbelievers will say, ‘but your lot are the ones obsessed with rules’. No, but you could be forgiven for thinking that, when we talk of keeping the Sabbath and remembering the commandments. Forgive us, because we are flawed, usually well-meaning and frequently misguided human beings, just like yourselves. We have a tendency to forget that what makes us WANT to obey God’s law is a gift you have yet to receive. So, we often try putting the cart before the horse, and try to impose obedience on you.

There will be no such obedience, however, without the love of Christ.And it’s my job, and the job of every Christian to demonstrate that first.

Somehow, though, even when we try to say this, it gets lost in translation.

Let’s not pretend, either, that Christians are the only ones with a legislation habit. Look at the people being visited by the police, even to the extent of being charged and tried, simply because they don’t subscribe to the ‘woke’ agenda. ‘Thou shalt not question liberal values’ may as well be writ large across our nation’s schools and workplaces. Not long ago, a man was told by his local constabulary that they needed to ‘check his thinking’, because he had objected to the idea of gender being fluid.

So, all the while that Christianity is being banished from the public sphere as a divisive and hateful doctrine, we are permitting it to be replaced with a totalitarian one. If you don’t acquiesce, you may lose your job, your reputation, your liberty.

Christ desires his followers to turn the other cheek, not to pay reviling with reviling. He tells us to pray for those who despise us and, as ever, led with his own incomparable example. Even on the cross, it was, ‘Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do’.

If you ever doubted the brokenness of God’s perfect Creation, see it now in the fact that we are rejecting the one liberating love for the self-made shackles of law.

If you are not in Christ, you are not free. You are living by someone else’s law. When you broke Christ’s rules, he asked that it not be held to your account – do you honestly have faith that the god of this world would be so forgiving?

For Him Or Against Him

When you belong to a community like Lewis, it’s hard to be uncertain as to your identity. I certainly grew up very aware of being placed within a genealogy, within an historical and cultural context, and with a kind of duality of experience through both my mother tongue, and the language I had to learn in order to ‘get on’.

Still, though, a few weeks ago, if you’d followed me to a reception in the Castle, you might have heard me announce myself to the name-badge distributor as ‘Norman Maciver’. She responded with, ‘riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight’, whilst politely scanning her table for the appropriate pin. Taking pity on her at last, I explained that I was, in fact, a last-minute substitute for the said gentleman, and revealed my real name.

‘I was going to say’, she laughed in some evident relief, scribbling my moniker hastily onto a makeshift label.

She was most definitely not going to say, however. After all, we live in a society which positively encourages 5’2” women called Catriona to fool themselves and others that they are 6’ farmers called Tormod, with their own quad and PSV licence.

It doesn’t sit very easily with a person like myself, of limited horizons, and who grew up plagued by questions like ‘cò leis thu?’ I would feel very daft indeed pretending to be someone other than what everybody else knows me to be.

Don’t worry, though, I am not going to wander into the morass of debate about gender reassignment. I don’t know enough about it. What I do know is that those who genuinely experience issues of this nature are in the minority. We hear a disproportionate amount about it because there is an agenda which isn’t content with educating against hatred and persecution of minorities, but which must always attempt to coerce us into approving of them too. This isn’t just the case with ‘the gender issue’, but many other modern dilemmas besides.

Far from increasing tolerance, it merely forces us to either be hypocrites, pretending to agree with unpalatable things, or it polarises society into new hate groups.

When I was a teenager and in my twenties, I knew that the churchgoing people of my acquaintance would not approve of my lifestyle. No, in fact, let’s rephrase that: I understood that they could not approve of it. It’s not that I lived like Oliver Reed – even if I’d wanted to, my father would probably have had something to say about that – but neither was I living according to God’s law. Quite apart from my social life, I had not recognised my own sin, or my need for Christ; I was living the way I saw fit, albeit largely within the staid framework of my upbringing.

I understood that there was a choice to be made. Life gives you that luxury if you are fortunate enough to live in a western democracy like ours. For a time, I chose to go my own way, and I enjoyed it.

Yet, I never once expected that the Kirk Session should be made to say that my weekends were being spent as they would advocate. Not even those Sunday mornings when I sat in church with a pounding headache from the night before would I suggest that there was anything in my conduct that they should be forced to applaud.

Besides, the right-on agenda pushers are missing the point by a mile if they think that getting conservative Christians to say ‘okay’ to same sex marriage, or abortion, or teaching kids all manner of deviancy in schools, is any sort of victory.

What kind of enlightened society attempts to make you act against your beliefs? I believe, for instance, that abortion is just a euphemistic word for ending a life. The reason I believe this is because I know that the giving and taking of life is God’s prerogative, and all that he has asked of us is that we preserve the gift once he has bestowed it. However, society will tell me that I am denying other women the right to choose what happens to their own bodies.

First, I am denying nothing, for I am just one person with one vote and the same amount of power and influence as every other ordinary UK citizen. Second, the unborn child is not a member of its mother’s body – though, in the normal way of things, it ought to be treated as such.

I could say, for the sake of a quiet life, that I’m okay with everything that the liberal lobby wants. The day is coming, indeed, when they may try to make me, with threat of jail if I don’t comply. Nonetheless, they cannot force me to believe a lie. They cannot insist that I act against my conscience. No amount of coercion can make a lie true.

Nothing I can say here will make any sense, of course, considered from a worldly perspective. To the liberals, I am just yet another deluded Bible-basher, high on hatred and champing at the bit to persecute those who disagree with me.

It is not because of hatred, however, that Christians oppose gay marriage, or immoral teaching, or abortion, or any of the myriad wrongs that someone has decided to foist on us as not merely acceptable, but somehow noble. No, it is because of love. Real love.

Human love is a beautiful and precious thing. It brings out the best in us, and elevates the day-to-day. But it is not enough. At its purest, it is still only an imitation of that original love.

God looked on what he had made and saw it was very good – and we thanked him by smashing and warping it. And we dare now to throw our definition of love in his face, as though we know best.

In his righteous anger at the ugliness of sin, he still loved us. He brought his Son into the broken world to redeem us from our own calamity – and we thanked him by spitting on that Saviour, and hanging him up to die.

And God, in the person of Christ, loved us to death. He looked on our taunting, mocking faces and he willingly gave himself up.

So now, the world is divided into two camps. We are not male and female; we are not gay and straight; we are not black and white; we are not Protestant and Catholic.

Ultimately, the world will see that there are many moral absolutes. In the end, though, only one really matters:

We are for Christ, or we are against him.

Free speech? What free speech?

You won’t be surprised to learn that, as a Lewiswoman of the Wee Free persuasion, there are certain things which I am not encouraged to have an opinion on. These include, but are not limited to: whether elders should wear ties, the use of more innovative psalm tunes, or anything to do with the carpark.

That still leaves me with baking, when to use doilies, and what colour of shirt is most becoming to the ministers. That last one needs very careful consideration if they’re standing against an all-white backdrop, and had a late one at the Session the night before. Peelie-wally face, grey shirt: you see the problem.

However, the restrictions imposed upon my thinking within church confines are as nothing compared to those that society has put my way.

Indeed, the overbearing Free Kirk patriarchy which has repressed my kind for so many years seems positively liberal by comparison. Why, this week alone, they allowed me to press buttons on the recording equipment unsupervised. And when the singing elder ran at me, shouting, ‘who let you loose on that?’ the minister reprimanded him. Progress, you see?

But what happens inside our secret society of Calvinist oppression  is well-known to those who merely look on. They know that the men rule with a rod of iron and the women meekly obey. It is a matter of common knowledge that the minister tells us how to vote, what to watch on television, which newspapers are acceptable, and which horse to back in the Grand National. Well, no, not that last one. Our local intellegentsia are not daft enough to think betting is encouraged; just that their neighbours are robots.

They are particularly good at making those kinds of judgements – what is harmless, what is harmful, what is important, what is not. And, of course, they are well aware that we Presbyterians are strangers to rational thought . It is for our own good that they tell us what to think, what to say, and when to be quiet.

This week, I shared a ‘Spectator’ article on facebook. It was called, ‘Questioning transgenderism is the new blasphemy’.

So, I questioned transgenderism.

The response? I was variously accused of being uncaring, ignorant, commenting on something that didn’t concern me and, inevitably, I was told to be quiet.

All of which rather made the author’s – and my – point. You cannot discuss transgenderism rationally. The same applies to abortion, to gay marriage, and to any number of other social phenomena which have quietly been ushered onto statute books in the west, without anyone really talking about it.

The responses are always the same: those arguing against you position themselves as caring, and will use words like ‘hurt’ and ‘shame’ and ‘rejection’. With no evidence whatsoever, they will tell you that generations of islanders suffered shame, mental illness, and even took their own lives as a result of being judged and rejected for things over which they had no control .

And perhaps that is true. But Christians do not mean to add to anyone’s unhappiness. It’s just, no one has asked their opinion. Had there been debate, they could and should have been part of that. Then, an appropriate response could have been discussed – by which I do mean with all sides being heard, not just those voicing the socially acceptable view.

What is not socially acceptable, as I am fast learning, is Biblical authority. People will dismiss it, using words that I find chilling – not because I am offended, but because they are.

They are offended at the idea of submitting to anything that is not their preference, or their will. In all of this, the supreme irony is that they are in chains of their own making. Like Jacob Marley, they have forged them inch by inch, and tightened them further with each half-turn away from the will of God.

There is, of course, another taboo here. You may not talk of sin. In this fruitless online exchange, the opponents of free speech write emotively and scathingly of the shame inflicted on generations of people for their lifestyle choices. While I have no doubt that may be true, and regrettable where there was a want of empathy, the truth has not changed.

So, don’t be offended at the mention of ‘sinner’, because I freely admit to being one of equal, if not greater guilt.

No Christian calls sin into question to humiliate, or judge anybody. That is never the aim.  Yes, we may indeed quote you Romans 3: 23, ‘for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God’.

That means you, but it means me as well, and I speak to you, not as a would-be judge, but as a fellow convict who has been granted the key for my cell door.

You see, Romans 3 has a 24th verse. It says, ‘ and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus’.

That is the key. If a Christian tells you you’re imprisoned, it’s not to cause you despair. They want you to open the door to freedom like they have.

Perhaps, after all, your hurt and offence has nothing to do with hearing the word, ‘sin’, and everything to do with being out of step with the only One who can truly dry your tears.